


Peeping Toms

by LouisiannaC13



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Fluff, He's just a lovesick fool, M/M, Neighbours, Neighbours AU, Pining, Single POV, Smut, VictUuri, Victor is not a creep I swear, Victuri, artist!Victor, lots of pining, mild obsession, photographer!Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 20:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11298063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisiannaC13/pseuds/LouisiannaC13
Summary: Victor’s favourite thing about where he lives isn’t the location, or even his own apartment.It’s the raven-haired beauty who lives across the street.Victor finds himself completely enamoured, and unable to look away.





	Peeping Toms

 

 

Viktor Nikiforov lived on the seventh floor of an apartment complex downtown. It was a nice area – lots of friendly cafés, excellent transportation connections, and a big park within walking distance. The apartment itself was nice too: clean and bright with big beautiful windows overlooking the street below. He had lived there for nearly two years and was very content with his surroundings.

But Victor’s favourite part about living there was not the location, or even his own space.

It was the person who lived in the apartment across the street, directly opposite of his. A raven-haired beauty.

Victor didn’t really remember exactly when he had started watching the young man. One day it had simply become sort of a habit. He would watch as the man moved around his apartment, going about his day in a carefree manner. The young man’s combined kitchen and living space boasted windows which mirrored the ones by Victor’s work area, and as long as both had their curtains drawn back, it was pretty easy to see what the other was doing.

Victor was an artist. He had set up a couple of easels, but mainly used a simple drawing board which had him situated next to the windows. As he effortlessly traced lines on the paper, he glanced outside. He wasn't trying to catch a glimpse of him, he told himself. But when a moment later he did, he forgot what he was sketching and couldn’t help but focus solely on the man across the street.

Victor’s heart started beating just a little bit harder when he noticed that the man was shirtless. It wasn't the first time he had seen the other half-clothed – and as of late, he had seemed to be walking around shirtless more often than before – but it did something to Victor every time. The dark-haired man was _beautiful_. From what Victor could see, he had a very nice upper body. Lithe, but strong.

It took Victor a moment to realise that heat had started to pool in his lower belly, and that his trousers now felt tighter than before. He snapped out of it, and hastily drew the curtains shut. His sudden movement had his poodle, Makkachin, stirring on the floor next to the work table. Sweat had started to bead on Victor’s forehead, and he pushed a hand through his silvery bangs.

What the hell was he doing? This was wrong. The other man had no idea that he was being watched. And now Victor had had this sort of reaction… He chastised himself. Was he really this sort of person? Disappointed in himself, he decided he should go for a walk with Makkachin. He definitely needed to cool down.

//

No matter how guilty Victor felt about watching the man, it was a habit he found hard to break. In the evenings he would lazily sketch, looking out the window. Always telling himself he was looking at everything going on outside, but never really admitting to himself that that wasn't true. His eyes always drifted to one specific set of windows.

Sometimes, the young man would be on his laptop, talking animatedly while the light from the screen washed over his features. Victor figured he must be video chatting with someone regularly. Maybe family? Or… a lover? He had never seen anyone else in the other’s apartment; but no matter how much Victor enjoyed silently watching, it wasn’t something he did twenty-four hours a day.

He really didn’t know much about the young man. He couldn’t have a nine-to-five job since he kept odd hours, just like Victor. He didn’t know if he had a girlfriend or a boyfriend, or where he went when he left home.

Victor just knew the sort of smile the raven-haired man broke into sometimes, when he was on the phone or video chatting. A smile that lit up his whole face and made his eyes crinkle slightly. A genuine, captivating smile.  
Victor knew how the muscles in his back moved when he leaned over, and he knew how his dark hair looked like a mess in the mornings.

He watched as the young man did a small wave at the laptop screen, before clicking and gently closing it shut. He watched as the man stood up, and with one slick move pulled the shirt over his head before moving out of view. Victor gulped and turned his attention back to his drawing, which had been left completely forgotten for the past fifteen minutes. He furrowed his eyebrows at it, realising that he hadn’t even known what he had been sketching. It looked like the outline of a torso… lithe, but _strong_ …

Victor slammed his sketch book closed, before forcefully getting up from his chair. He had to get a grip. This was getting ridiculous. He must be breaking a law, right? He shook his head. When had he become like this?

He went to bed that night, willing himself to get the raven-haired beauty out of his head. He didn’t succeed.

//

The next morning, Victor moved into his studio area in a daze. Neglecting a shirt in favour of only wearing sweatpants, he approached the curtains and drew them back. It was the first thing he did every morning, since the large windows provided much appreciated sunlight for the rest of the apartment.

Yawning and running a hand through his hair – undoubtedly just messing it up even more – he scanned the street below. It had been a long night. His dreams had betrayed him, so he was childishly determined not to look at the other man’s windows this morning.

Victor Nikiforov had zero willpower.

Flicking his eyes up ever so briefly, he had to do a double-take since he was still sleepy. Though when he noticed the other man watching him, his head became clear as day. For a second Victor forgot to breathe.

The raven-haired beauty was watching him through the windows. Actually, staring at him. It was only for a second, before his face turned a furious shade of red (Victor could see it from across the street clearly – hell, you could probably have seen that blush from space) and he promptly drew his curtains.

Victor kept watching, even though he now couldn’t see inside the other apartment. What was it that they said? ‘Out of sight, out of mind’? Whoever said that had clearly never seen his across-the-street neighbour.

//

A few days later, Victor took Makkachin for a walk in the park. The park had been one of the deciding factors when Victor first moved to the area. It was big, dog-friendly, and had cute little carts with beverages and snacks. Picking up a stray stick, he threw it for Makkachin to fetch. It was mid-autumn; the leaves had long since turned shades of yellow, red and orange, but had only recently started falling off the trees. It was beautiful, and one of Victor’s favourite times of the year.

Makka returned with the stick and Victor threw it again with a smile. He moved over to a pond and admired the view. As an artist, this was great inspiration. Nature scenes weren’t his specialty – he did more portraits and body studies – but the colour schemes of nature were great to get the creative juices flowing. He appreciated his surroundings for a few more minutes, before he turned around and scanned the area for his dog. When he didn’t see him, he let out a high-pitched whistle.

“Makka!”

Victor called again as he moved around a group of trees. He wasn’t worried that Makkachin would run away or get lost, but he preferred to keep him within eye’s reach. His poodle was as friendly as dogs came, so he had no problem running up to strangers and while most people didn’t mind, others might not particularly care for it.

Victor came to a halt when he laid eyes on his dog, happily panting in front of a man who had lowered himself down onto his knees to pet him. The young man’s smile was genuine and captivating. Victor could only stare.

The raven-haired beauty was petting his dog.

The man from across the street. Now here, no more than ten feet away from him.

Victor had never been so close to him before. And the other man didn’t seem to realise yet that Victor was standing there.

The man wasn’t wearing a coat, only a thick jumper and a ridiculously big scarf. His hair was messy but not as messy as his bedhead in the mornings. (Victor felt a twinge of guilt at knowing that.)

“What’s your name, huh?” the young man cooed to the poodle, and Victor’s heart fluttered. He had never heard the man speak before. It was melodic, but with a slight trace of accent. Victor swallowed, willing his heart rate to slow down, as he proceeded to walk toward them.  
“His name is Makkachin,” Victor said as he stopped a step away from the pair.  
The young man’s head snapped up and his hands stilled on the dog’s fur. As he looked at Victor, his face gradually turned red.  
“Oh,” he said, awkwardly lowering his eyes back down to the poodle. “This is your dog?”  
Victor crouched down to their level and started to pat Makkachin lovingly.  
“Yes, we’ve been together for more than a decade now. Haven’t we, Makka?”  
Makkachin barked in confirmation, which brought another smile onto the younger man’s face.  
“He’s beautiful,” the man said as he started to rake through the fur once more, carefully avoiding Victor’s hand.

Victor glanced up to watch the man’s face. His eyes were a golden, warm shade of brown. He had never really seen that before. Makkachin wasn’t the only beautiful one around here, Victor thought.

“You live across the street from me, right?” Victor said, trying his hardest to make it sound casual.  
The dark-haired man’s blush deepened just a little bit and he didn’t look Victor in the eyes, but he nodded.  
“Yeah, I’ve seen you,” Victor continued, before he caught himself. Crap. He panicked.  
“I- I mean, just in passing. Our windows are direct opposites, after all. It’s just, just hard not to see movement sometimes.”  
Craaaap. He was rambling. He was making it worse. The poor man must think he was a weirdo. (He wouldn’t be wrong.)

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-“  
“It’s okay, I get it,” he young man said, and to Victor’s surprise he was now looking at him and… actually smiling. It wasn’t one of his usual, unabashed smiles, but a smaller and more shy smile. Victor felt his heart squeeze in his chest, because this smile was no less adorable. And it was directed at him.

“I’m Victor.”  
His voice came out a bit raspy because his mouth had suddenly gone dry.  
“Yuri. Nice to meet you.”  
“Yes,” was all Victor said, which made him feel like an idiot. But Yuri only smiled and continued to pet Makkachin.  
“Do you like dogs?” Victor asked, grasping at anything to get to know the man more, to keep him here for just a while longer.  
Yuri nodded.  
“My family actually have a poodle.”  
“Oh! What a coincidence. Do they live here in the city?”  
The younger man’s smile faltered fractionally, and he kept his eyes downcast.  
“No, they live in Japan.”

Such a long way from home, Victor realised.  
“You’re not from here either, are you?” Yuri suddenly asked, catching Victor off-guard.  
“What makes you say that?”  
Yuri’s blush came back and he looked mildly horrified.  
“Oh, I’m sorry! I just figured… You have an accent too. I assumed… I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”  
Victor couldn’t deny that it was kind of cute watching the raven-haired beauty fidget like this. It was a side of him that he had never seen before. While Yuri was still breathtakingly beautiful, when he spoke he was leaning more towards adorable.  
“No, you’re right. I’m Russian,” Victor replied to quell the other man’s embarrassment, giving Yuri a happy smile. Yuri returned it shyly.

Victor had to desperately avoid looking into those brown eyes for too long; lest he be lost. So he let his gaze wander down to the small bag the other man had strapped across his body, and noticed a wide strap and a gleaming lens inside.  
“Are you taking photos?”  
Yuri’s hands once again stilled on Makkachin’s body, and he slightly leaned back to gather the spilling strap and close the bag flap securely over it. Makkachin must have interrupted him, Victor mused.  
“Yeah. The park is so beautiful at this time of year, so… It would be a shame not to.”  
“Business or pleasure?”  
“I’m freelancing at the moment. But this is mostly for pleasure.”

Victor continued to smile happily at the other man. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. When he woke up this morning, he didn’t imagine he would end up having _an_ _actual_ _conversation_ with the raven-haired beauty. Victor hadn't even seen him since that morning he had caught him staring at his dazed, shirtless, crazy-haired self. And close up, well… Yuri was more than Victor could have ever imagined.

His inner fangirling came to a halt when Yuri suddenly stood up, and dusted off his knees.  
“I should… probably get going. It was nice talking to you, though.”  
Victor stood up with such haste that he nearly trampled Makkachin. Now face to face, he noticed that the young man was slightly shorter than him.  
“Do you- do you have somewhere you need to be?”  
Victor cringed at his own words, because he definitely realised just how intrusive he must have sounded. He had never been good at toning down, at backing off. It wasn’t a side of himself he was particularly proud of most of the time. But when he became passionate about something, there was little that could stop him from moving ahead like a freight train.

But scaring Yuri off was the last thing he wanted to do.

Victor let out a quiet chuckle – it was a defeated sound.  
“I’m- I’m sorry. If you need to go, then of course. I shouldn’t keep you.”  
He looked up at the other man, who was studying him with big, brown eyes. Yuri’s cheeks still held a warm red hue, but if it was from the previous blush or because he was overheating in that ridiculously big scarf, Victor couldn’t tell.  
“I don’t have anywhere I need to be,” Yuri said suddenly, his voice soft.  
Victor had to process the simply stated words for a moment, before he managed to gather his wits.  
“Then… Would you like to get a coffee? My treat. And walk with me and Makka for a bit?” He gestured to his dog, who was happily panting after the more-than-usual back rubs.

Yuri seemed to consider it for a moment, looking down to meet the dog’s gaze.  
“He likes you a lot, you know,” Victor stated with a smile.  
(Makkachin liked nearly everyone, but Yuri didn’t need to know that.)  
“Okay. If it’s your treat,” Yuri replied finally, with a smile that made his eyes crinkle, just a bit.

Victor couldn’t remember the last time he had been so overjoyed.

//

Victor knew how Yuri’s back muscles moved when he leaned down (mouthwatering). He knew what his hair looked like in the mornings (adorable). He knew his genuine smile (captivating).

Those were things that Victor had known for a while.

Now he also knew that Yuri Katsuki was Japanese. He was 24 years old, four years younger than Victor. He was a freelance photographer. He liked dogs, especially poodles. He went skating at the local rink during his free time (that would explain his figure). His favourite food was katsudon (particularly his mother’s).

And he realised that Yuri Katsuki was not only beautiful on the outside, but on the inside as well.

One thing that Victor still didn’t know was Yuri’s phone number. He berated himself for days afterwards. How could he not have asked for his number? Even just as neighbours, or friends, that would have been normal. Stupid, stupid Victor. He knew where Yuri lived, sure. But only the building and floor number, not the specific apartment. And he couldn’t exactly just show up unannounced. No matter how smitten he found himself to be. (Increasingly so.)

He still saw Yuri across the street, through the windows. Yuri still didn’t seem to notice. And Victor felt bad, probably worse than before. He didn’t want to be creepy. But then once, just as Victor had finished a sketch (it wasn’t of Yuri, he told himself – that dark hair could belong to anyone) and looked out the window one last time before drawing his curtains, he noticed the younger man walking into view and almost immediately looking out the window. Straight towards Victor’s apartment. At first Yuri's face was blank. But then a shy smile graced his features, and _he_ _waved_.

Victor was too stunned to wave back, and before he regained his bearings, the curtains had been drawn across the street.

Yuri had waved at Victor. The latter’s heart beat violently in his ribcage, and trying to sleep that night proved futile.

//

Victor found himself walking to the same spot in the park where he had first properly met Yuri, much more frequently than he would have done otherwise. This was his best bet at running into the raven-haired man again. He lingered as long as he could before Makkachin started to get bored and protest. It had been nearly two weeks since their encounter, and Yuri still hadn’t been to the park. Or at least not this spot. Sighing, Victor picked up a stick and threw it across the grass, which was now almost completely covered in dead leaves. The dog raced blindly through the mess, kicking up leaves as he ran.

Victor trudged after him, but increased his pace when he heard a voice. A familiar voice.  
“Makkachin? It is you, isn’t it?”  
He heard his poodle bark happily, and Victor almost broke into a run – only to slip on some leaves. He got up as quickly as he had gone down (thank God Yuri hadn’t witnessed that), and continued in a hurried but more dignified manner.

When he reached Yuri and Makka, the former was once again on his knees, gently scratching the dog behind his ears. He was once again wearing that large scarf but had put on a peacoat since the temperature had dropped slightly. Victor smiled as Yuri noticed he was approaching (the leaves underneath his shoes gave it away).  
“Hi,” the young man said and smiled back. It wasn’t the shy smile Victor had first been rewarded with, but it wasn’t quite his unabashed one either. Victor tried to slow down his raging heart and gave a wave as he walked over – before remembering that night when Yuri had done the same to him from across the street. Victor could feel his ears starting to heat up, and hoped he could blame the chill in the air if called out on it.

Makkachin barked excitedly and rolled over onto his back so that Yuri could rub his stomach instead. Victor joined them as Yuri gratefully agreed to the dog’s request.  
“Oi Makka, you’re going to be a mess! All these leaves…” Victor trailed off without much conviction, as he picked up a colourful maple leaf. Then he started as he heard Yuri stifle a laugh, and looked up. He wasn’t prepared for what he was about to see.

Yuri’s eyes were _sparkling_. He was giggling, obviously still trying not to fully laugh out loud. Victor could only stare. This was a new smile. This was the best smile of Yuri Katsuki’s that he had ever seen. No, scratch that – this was the best smile Victor had ever seen, period.

And it was contagious. Victor felt his face melt into a small smile, although confusion was still flashing across his face.  
“Yuri… What's so funny?”  
The younger man chuckled, and the sound made something stir in Victor’s lower belly.  
“A mess, huh?”  
The silver-haired man could still only stare at him, not following in the slightest. But when he saw Yuri reaching up into his bangs, carefully removing a small red leaf, Victor’s face started to feel like it was on fire. (And not because he was embarrassed.) Yuri studied the leaf he held.  
“I guess it’s true what they say, ‘like master, like dog’?”

Victor tentatively reached up and ran a hand through his hair, realising it was now the temporary home of several leaves. He must have acquired them when he fell. And he must look ridiculous right now. But the sound of Yuri bursting out laughing made him grateful for his undignified fall just moments earlier.  
“You look crazy!” Yuri squealed, eyes tearing up from laughing – and Victor was sure it must have been the most brilliant sound he had ever heard. He had to remind himself to keep breathing, and to not grin like an idiot (the latter certainly didn’t go very well).  
“Oh yeah? Let’s see how you like it!” Victor said as he grabbed a handful of leaves from the ground.

Yuri squealed again, but this time from surprise, and he fell back onto his butt. The commotion had Makkachin rolling over back onto his feet, which interrupted Victor when he was about to lunge at Yuri. So the raven-haired beauty made a lucky escape, but Victor was quick to try for a second time. He almost had him when Yuri put a hand up to Victor’s chest, panting because he was still laughing so hard.  
“Wait, wait! If… If I buy you coffee, will you let me escape?”  
Victor was sure that Yuri must have felt his raging heartbeat, even through the thick layers of clothing. He swallowed thickly. There was really only one answer to that. He narrowed his eyes to feign opposition, though.  
“Okay. Deal.”

\--

After finishing their coffees and throwing away the paper cups, Victor and Yuri continued to stroll around the park for a bit. Makka found a particularly interesting bush and attempted to find all its secrets.

“So is there anywhere I could see your paintings? Didn’t you mention there’s an art gallery in the city, displaying your work?”  
Victor tried to hide the ridiculous smile creeping onto his face. He was pleased that Yuri remembered details from their previous conversation, and that he was interested in what Victor did for a living.  
“Yeah, the Tillman Gallery. I can give you the address.” He glanced towards his companion, and decided to try out some new ground. “Or… you could always just come over to mine and I’ll show you.”

(Victor made a mental note to himself: hide all the sketches which were blatantly inspired by Yuri.)

The shorter man blushed a little at the invitation, and hid his face further into his scarf.  
“Maybe.”  
Victor had to will his heart to stop beating so hard. The man next to him was too adorable for words. Finding himself staring a bit too long, he quietly cleared his throat and forced himself to look away. Instead he searched for his poodle, only to find him more than halfway into a berry bush.  
“Makka! Come here, boy!”

Victor took a few steps toward the dog (who was totally ignoring his master), before he heard something rustling just by his ear. He stopped short a second later, when he felt dead leaves fall on his head before tumbling down to the ground. For a moment he just stood there. When he whipped his head around, he saw Yuri fighting a mischievous smile.  
“I just thought you were missing something. We never should have taken them out,” the Japanese said innocently, struggling to keep his laughter contained.

Victor’s surprise lasted for a few moments, before he fully turned to face the other man. He tried to look serious (even with a handful of dried leaves stuck in his hair), as he crossed his arms against his chest.  
“You broke the deal, Yuri.”  
Yuri took a step back, anticipating Victor’s next move.  
“Oh, that deal was only for me, not you.”  
Victor arched an eyebrow. Yuri’s teasing smile made him want to lunge himself at the younger man – for reasons other than revenge.  
“You sure know how to accessorise, Vic-“  
Yuri didn’t get further than that before Victor began moving in on him, and the former broke into a run with a delightful laugh.

Makka heard the commotion and joined them as they started hurling dead leaves at each other. Victor was pleased as he managed to finally get some leaves into Yuri’s hair. The colourful bits contrasted beautifully with his raven dark hair, and his eyes had started to sparkle again. He sure made a pretty picture, Victor thought. However, the distraction proved fatal as he tripped on Makkachin – or rather, tried to avoid it but ended up flat on his back anyway. Not giving in to defeat, he proceeded to get up – but found himself pushed down only a second later, caught by surprise.

Yuri was straddling him, and had Victor’s hands locked by his head. The raven-haired beauty hovered over him; eyes still sparkling, smile still breathtaking.  
“Got you,” he said triumphantly.  
Victor swallowed. Just how had they gotten into this position?  
“Yeah, you got me,” he said quietly, breathlessly, as he looked up into those beautiful brown eyes.

(Calm down. Body, don’t betray me now, Victor pleaded. But Yuri was right there, so close. So close. Right there.)

Victor Nikiforov was insanely attracted to this man, who had now somehow ended up straddling him.

Victor couldn’t decide if he was incredibly lucky, or incredibly unlucky.

All thoughts in the silver-haired man’s head were silenced when Yuri leaned in closer, amusement fading from his face. Victor’s chest physically hurt from the way his heart was pounding. Was… Was he going to..?

Yuri stopped mere inches from Victor’s face, watching him with a serious expression. The latter found himself swallowing again, almost painfully. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the other man’s.  
“I know you’ve been watching.” Yuri’s voice was low, not quite a whisper.  
Victor felt his blood go from boiling to ice cold. Oh God. Was Yuri going to call him out on peeping? Was he going to think he was a creep? Would he report him to the police?  
“Because I’ve been watching too.”

Victor blinked a few times, not registering the meaning of the other man’s words at first. Yuri had been watching… Victor?  
He couldn’t find any words to say, so he just searched the young man’s face. There was nothing malignant about his expression or tone, Victor realised. He was simply stating a fact. Telling a secret? Confessing?

When Victor didn’t say anything, Yuri distanced himself. He released Victor’s hands and got off him, standing up and raking a hand through his hair, managing to remove most of the dead leaves. Victor sat up on the ground but only stared as Yuri turned to him and offered a weak smile.

“I need to go. I’ll see you around, Victor.”

Victor watched as Yuri walked away. That lithe but muscular figure… and oh God, _that_ _ass_.  
Victor’s mind was whirling. Yuri had been watching him. Through the windows. For how long? And how long had he known that Victor was also watching him? What did this all mean?

It was only after sitting on the ground for a long while, absently petting Makkachin, that Victor realised he still hadn’t gotten Yuri’s phone number. And by then, Yuri was long gone.

//

Victor became restless. He found himself incapable of finishing any painting or sketch, only distractedly looking out the windows of his studio. The thing that bothered him, was that Yuri wasn’t there. Across the street, the curtains were drawn shut – for one day, then two. The raven-haired beauty wasn’t home.

Victor couldn’t help but wonder where he could have gone. It wasn’t really any of his business, he knew that. But he couldn't help thinking about it nevertheless. He couldn’t help longing for the other man. To see him, to talk to him again…

(To touch him. To hold him. There was no denying it anymore.)

Lingering later than usual by the window, hoping that the other's curtains would somehow suddenly be drawn back, Victor eventually gave up. Going to bed that night, for the first time he allowed himself to think of Yuri Katsuki while touching himself.

//

It had been nearly two weeks. Twelve days to be exact. (Victor could probably state the exact hours too, but he tried not to think about it.) Yuri’s curtains were still drawn, and Victor had had no luck in seeing him at the park either.

Was it Victor’s fault? Had Yuri gone away for good? Had he decided to move? Victor didn’t dare to entertain the thought as it made him dizzy with displeasure. The thought of never seeing Yuri again was one that he simply couldn’t wrap his head around. No. It just couldn't be true. Victor willed himself to be a patient man, a rational man. No need to jump to conclusions, he told himself – as he continued to spend more time gazing out the window than doing any actual work.

\--

His morning routine stayed the same – opening up the studio curtains to let in the sunlight. That morning, on the thirteenth day, he had stayed in bed longer than usual, not feeling the motivation. He hesitated before drawing the curtains open. He still harboured hope to finally see Yuri’s curtains drawn back. But when he pushed away the fabric and looked across the street, Victor was once again met with the anonymity of curtains closed.

Sighing, he resolved to take out his restlessness and general unhappiness on canvas. It had been a while since he had painted with oil, and figured it might bring him out of his funk. After getting ready and feeding Makka, Victor set up the easel directly in front of the large windows, prepared the paint and got to work.

He got immersed into painting easier than he had thought; looking out the window less and less and focusing on the canvas more and more. But when Victor had been at it for nearly two hours, a flickering movement outside suddenly caught his eye.  
Across the street, Yuri’s curtains were being drawn back.

Victor almost dropped his paint-heavy brush when he laid eyes on Yuri through the glass – shirtless and with that amazing bedhead. It didn’t take long for Yuri to notice Victor either – in fact, his gaze seemed to go straight to the silver-haired man’s apartment. Fumbling, Victor put his material down and approached the window, putting his hands on the glass, never once taking his eyes off the raven-haired beauty.

For a long moment, they just looked at each other. Then, almost unnoticeably, Yuri brought a hand up and grazed his own nipple. Victor's heart sped up like crazy. What was he doing? Oh God. The Russian could feel the heat starting to gather in his abdomen. He sucked in his breath when Yuri gently rested a hand against the glass, partially mirroring Victor’s stance.

Thoughts running miles a minute, Victor tore his eyes away from the Japanese (with great difficulty) to search his drawing board. Quickly locating a pen and paper, he scribbled something before displaying it on the window for the other man to see. Across the street, Yuri squinted at the piece of paper, before vaguely shrugging and slightly shaking his head in confusion. He mouthed something which looked like ‘what’.  
Damn. He apparently couldn’t read the message from such a distance. Victor racked his brain before he had another idea. Signalling to Yuri to wait, he stepped over to his abandoned easel and picked up the brush and paint.

Then without hesitation, Victor started painting large letters directly onto the window pane, mirrored so that Yuri could read them. He briefly caught sight of the other man bringing a hand up to his mouth in slight shock.

When Victor finished seconds later, he stepped back to gauge Yuri’s reaction once more.

CAN I COME OVER?

The words were there for the world to see, but they were only intended for Yuri.

The young man eventually nodded slowly, which sent electric pulses through Victor’s body. Gathering his thoughts, he proceeded to wet the brush with paint before bringing it to the smooth glass again.

WHICH APT NO?

Yuri seemed to consider his hands for a moment, before holding them out close against the window – his right displaying two fingers, and his left displaying five. Victor squinted to be sure to catch it correctly. Two, five? Apartment number 25? Victor nodded before he basically sprinted out the door, forgoing both coat and scarf.

//

A few minutes later, Victor knocked on Yuri’s front door, slightly out of breath. He tried to compose himself best he could, not quite succeeding in slowing down his racing heart. And when Yuri opened the door seconds later, his heart only started beating faster.

(To Victor’s slight disappointment, the younger man had put on a shirt.)

They looked at each other for a moment, before Yuri seemed to remember his duty as host. Blushing slightly, he stepped to the side.  
“Come in.”  
Victor swallowed and crossed the threshold. Glancing around, he noticed that Yuri’s apartment was bigger than he had imagined. It was clean but homely. There were framed photos on almost every wall. The space was… Yuri.

Yuri closed the door gently before tentatively turning around to face his guest. Victor did the same, and tried to think of something to say before his body would betray him and he would simply take the young man in his arms.  
“I like your place,” he settled on, keeping the few feet of distance between them.  
“Thanks,” Yuri replied with a shy smile.  
Victor inhaled. (Calm down, calm down.)  
“Where-“ he started, before he stopped himself. He had to think about how to phrase it without sounding like a lunatic (the lunatic he was). “Have you been away?”  
Victor already knew the answer, but wanted confirmation anyway. Yuri nodded.  
“I went back to Japan to visit my parents.”  
Oh. That made sense, Victor thought. But he couldn’t get rid of the lingering guilt in his mind.  
“It… It wasn’t because of me, was it?” His voice came out quiet and uncertain.

Yuri seemed surprised by the question, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind. When he broke out into a small smile, Victor’s heart fluttered.  
“You don’t just go to Japan on a whim, Victor. I had this trip planned for weeks.”  
“Right. Of course. I was just being silly.”  
(There he was, rambling again.)  
“Actually…”  
At Yuri’s hesitant tone, Victor furrowed his eyebrows.  
“I, uh, I’d like to apologise,” the Japanese continued, throwing Victor completely off. What, apologise? What on earth for? Before Victor could voice his thought, Yuri spoke again.  
“For that last time, at the park. I don’t know what came over me.” He was blushing, keeping his eyes downcast, and the smile was gone. “And when you didn’t say anything, I just… I was embarrassed.”

Victor had to wrap his head around what he was listening to. Then he felt a lump of ice form in his stomach. Had he made Yuri feel insecure, because he hadn’t had the wits to say anything? No. No, that wasn’t right. That should never have happened. Victor knew he wasn't the best with words (that’s why he was an artist). He relied on actions. And most of the time, his ways of handling things blew up in his face. But when Yuri finally looked up at him – eyes big and warm and _absolutely_ _beautiful_ – Victor gave in to his innate ways.

Victor only needed to take two steps to have Yuri pushed up against the door, closing the final distance between them with searing lips on lips. When Yuri immediately kissed him back, inviting him in further, Victor felt ecstatic.

The raven-haired man’s lips and tongue were perfect, and he tasted better than Victor could have ever imagined. Feeling a hand snake up into his hair and fisting it, Victor groaned into the other man’s mouth. He pressed his hips forward, eliciting a similar sound from the shorter man. Yuri linked his arms around Victor’s neck as they both started to move haphazardly towards the nearby couch, never breaking the kiss.

As soon as Yuri lay down on the cushions, Victor hovered over him and started to pull off the former's shirt. The offending piece of clothing came off in a swift motion and hit the floor a second later. Victor took a moment to gaze down on Yuri’s torso - one that he had seen in the distance many times before and fantasised about even more times - and appreciate the sight. Right here in front of him, so close he could touch, touch like he had wanted to for so long. Victor failed at keeping in a pleased moan as he ran his hands over the toned muscles.  
“You’re so beautiful, Yuri. So beautiful,” he mumbled against the other man’s ear, and felt the lithe body beneath him tremble at the words.

Victor proceeded to nip and suck at Yuri’s neck, while he felt himself grow harder and harder in his underwear. He knew what he wanted – but he was never going to force the other man into anything. He brought his mouth back to Yuri’s, and ghosted the latter’s plump bottom lip with his own.  
“Tell me you want this,” Victor whispered, not being able to mask the want in his tone.  
Yuri lifted his hips and brought their arousals closer together, causing Victor to moan.  
“I want this.” His voice was steady and sure – and it was all Victor needed.  
The Russian shed his shirt before they continued to grind their crotches together, exchanging heated kisses.

Victor had been born to kiss Yuri. He was absolutely certain of that now.

Pausing only to fetch condoms and lube, they rid themselves of their remaining clothing before tumbling down onto the couch again. Neither of them even thought about moving it into the bedroom – they were too engrossed with each other to think that far.  
“How do you want it?” Victor breathed between kisses. “Do you want me, or do you want to…”  
The reply came out in pants.  
“You. Inside me.”  
Victor groaned into Yuri’s neck and tried to hold himself together. Just the thought almost sent him over the edge. He was already painfully hard as he proceeded to lube up his fingers, before carefully slipping one into Yuri to prepare him.

The younger man gasped and arched his back. Victor trailed his lips down Yuri’s collarbone and lingered at a nipple, flicking out his tongue. The Japanese moaned and dug his fingernails into the other’s shoulders. Easing in a second finger, Victor began to relax the muscle. When Yuri inhaled sharply, Victor knew he had found the right spot, and continued to gently massage it. The raven-haired man’s moaning was like music to his ears. Victor kissed him again, deep and intense, swallowing the sweet sounds, as he kept sliding his fingers in and out. The silver-haired man soon added a third.

“Victor… Please…” Yuri whined breathlessly after a moment. Victor’s heart skipped a beat. Yuri was perfect beneath him; wanting and panting, with pre-cum dripping from the tip of his swollen member. Victor slid his fingers out of him and hurried to put on a condom. He was so hard, it was an excruciatingly slow process. After carefully coating his clad cock with lube, he lined himself up in between Yuri’s thighs. Victor paused to glance up into those beautiful brown eyes for silent confirmation. When he instantly received it, he pushed in.

Yuri’s muscles contracted as Victor filled him up, inch by inch. The latter looked down to where his limb disappeared into the other man. Victor reckoned his heart would beat out of his chest at any second.  
“Can I move?” he whispered with slight strain, looking up into Yuri’s face. When the young man nodded somewhat erratically, Victor slowly began pulling out before thrusting in again.

They soon found a fast rhythm which had them gasping and panting into each other’s mouths. Yuri fisted Victor’s silver strands between his fingers and bucked his hips up to meet every thrust, pushing them both closer and closer to the edge. Victor’s mind was reeling. Their bodies fit together perfectly. It felt so good, so right. How had he ever lived without this sensation?

When Yuri grabbed his own cock and started to pump it, matching the rhythm of the thrusts, Victor groaned. Seeing the other man touching himself… Victor was about to explode. He was so close.  
“Yuri, I’m… going to-“  
Victor cut himself off when Yuri shuddered and moaned, milky fluid spilling out over his hand and chest. The sight pushed Victor over the edge and he came violently. It took a minute before he was able to gather himself again.

After coming down from his high, Yuri blindly grabbed for his shirt off the floor. He lazily wiped himself down, as Victor discarded the condom. Sufficiently cleaned up, the silver-haired man collapsed back against Yuri’s chest. Snuggling into the young man’s neck, Victor felt gentle fingers ghosting up and down his exposed hip. They simply stayed like that for a while, letting their breathing and heart rates go back to normal.

“I can't believe you painted on your window,” Yuri said suddenly, voice soft and relaxed.  
Victor smiled into Yuri’s warm skin.  
“Ah, yeah. I hope that comes off or my landlady won’t be very happy with me. You know what that means though?” Victor slightly propped himself up on an elbow, and bopped Yuri’s nose with a finger. “You need to give me your phone number. Or my landlady’s wrath is on you,” he joked.  
Yuri smiled, a contented smile.  
“I suppose I could do that.”  
Victor gazed into the raven-haired man’s eyes, and gently caressed his cheek.  
“I would like to see you again,” he said, smiling warmly.  
“Not just through the window?”  
“Not just through the window. Besides, some idiot painted on my window so my view is a bit restricted now.”  
Yuri chuckled, his eyes crinkling. Captivating – utterly captivating.  
“You’re crazy.”

\--  
  
They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, before Victor reluctantly pushed himself up.  
“No matter how much I’d like to stay like this, I have to go,” he said softly, registering the flicker of worry in Yuri’s eyes. Victor swiped his thumb across the young man’s bottom lip in a reassuring gesture.  
“Makka. I don’t like leaving him alone for too long,” he explained.  
Yuri’s expression softened in understanding and relief.  
“Of course. You should get back.”

“I was thinking…” Victor continued, as he sat up to get dressed. “Would you like to come over to mine later? We could… make dinner? And watch a movie, maybe? Unless you…” He suddenly caught himself. “Oh, you must be jetlagged, right? You probably want to rest. You should rest.”  
(If he didn’t stop rambling, Victor would shove his shirt down his own throat.)  
He was about to stand up from the couch when Yuri grabbed his arm.  
“No! No, I… I’m fine. I slept in late. I would… I would love to come over.”  
Victor looked at Yuri in slight awe as a delicate blush crept over the latter’s face.  
“Dinner and a movie sounds great,” Yuri finished shyly.  
Victor’s heart leapt in his chest, and he couldn’t stop the smile which immediately lit up his features.  
“Amazing!”

\--

When Yuri fell asleep on Victor’s shoulder during the movie later that night, Victor thought himself the luckiest man alive.

//

Victor knew the different smiles of Yuri’s. He knew every line of his upper body. He knew the way his raven hair pointed in all possible directions in the mornings.

Victor knew what Yuri’s sleeping face looked like (in a non-creepy way, as he now had a legit reason to know that). (For the record, it was the most perfect face of all time.) He knew that Yuri’s thighs could crush a man’s skull (and Victor would not have minded one bit). He knew that Yuri’s stamina was out of this world.

Victor knew that Yuri was a great cook. He knew that Yuri was the most talented and kind-hearted person he had ever met. He knew that he would do anything to keep Yuri in his life, to be able to treasure him forever.

Victor Nikiforov knew that he was positively, hopelessly in love with Yuri Katsuki. And Victor knew that Yuri felt the same; making him the happiest man in the world.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my fanfic! Feel free to leave me comments :)


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